Saturday, May 23, 2009

Condition Fuschia

Now that GWB is quietly hanging out munching pretzel sticks in Texas and Rush Limbaugh has been filed under "Might Make Us Laughingstocks After All," the only go-to guy for America's disenfranchised Angry Old White Guys is Mr. Scowl himself, Dick Cheney.

My office – through painstaking telephone surveying and pure make-believe – has learned that Mr. Scowl is very much this week's made-man for old white guys who used to be in charge and still can't believe some black guy who's smarter, wiser, and tougher than all of them combined has taken the Oval Office.

Scowl's words don't matter: the "What is torture?" and "We didn't torture" and "But the torture worked" haiku is kind of like train wheels clacking along the train track in the distance late at night ... a comfortable hum of inscrutable inevitability.

What matters is Mr. Scowl's scowl.

It's a scowl that says, "I've been there, I've done that, and I know better than some young idealistic punk who happens to be the flavor of the month with America's misguided youth."

It's a scowl that says, "Yeah, I meant to do all that, and I'll be dead before you can prosecute."

America's AWOGs are currently feeling so pallid and limp that seeing a fiery, steely-eyed guy like Scowl scowling on television is Polemic Viagra for their shared shriveled soul. And just as when the literal git-er-up pill came out, these same fellows have gone off the deep end celebrating their new-found sense of vigor.

Ask America's aged sweethearts all about their Elmers and Harrys running off to get it on with young fifty-something fillies back in the early days of the magic blue pill and you've got a good idea of the challenges this country faces in today's Bushless political landscape where so many false-start right-wing saviors have fallen by the wayside so quickly that but one lone Dick remains standing.

Working in conjunction with The Office of Management and GoogleTrends, my office today has issued a Fuscia Threat Level considering the above activity among domestic AWOGs, allowing that many will probably still be alive by the next election, and that one Mr. Scowl will in all likelihood be found in the same condition.

There is a real possibility we will see Scowl on the presidential ticket in 2012, sort of like when Bob Dole, an actual spokesman for Viagra, showed up halfway through the Clinton Dynasty as the voice of all vigorous men old and righteous.

Remember: Scowl has been there and done that. He was the Bush Doctrine. He's not going to get tripped up on foreign policy issues, and he can be counted on to bite the head off Tucker Bounds if the smirky little simp so much as opens his mouth during the campaign.

Scowl is furthermore an expert at self-administered CPR, and ... again ... he's got the scowl.

Citizens are advised to live their lives as usual; to get out and partake of this nation's great destinations using car, rail, and airline, but to keep an eye on their surroundings. Please report any increased scowling activity among AWOG friends, relatives, acquaintances, and strangers via the e-mail links provided in this blog and we will be certain to exaggerate their nature and number and report on the result at a later date.